Oh, Mood
by Author Pendragon Of Camelot
Summary: "What is even the point of living?" He muttered rhetorically. "Oh, mood," a voice replied. A oneshot based on a post from Pinterest. Steve's generation practically invented fatalistic humour, and he is pleasantly surprised that people still understand his favourite kind of jokes. Features confused Tony.


Steve Rogers yawned as he stumbled blindly into the communal kitchen at the Avengers compound early one morning, blearily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He always woke early so he could get out for a morning jog. He didn't need to run to stay in shape, his enhanced metabolism helped him out greatly in that regard, but it helped him burn off some of the excess energy he always seemed to have. Sometimes he liked to spar with one of the team if they were up for it, but they had stopped offering since steve had such an advantage with the super serum. Natasha was the only match for him, but he still found himself holding back just in case he hurt her accidentally.

So, with a sigh, he popped four slices of bread into the toaster and busied himself with finding the jam and butter.

Someone had finished the jam, so Steve started rummaging around in the cupboard. Of course, then he forgot about the toast.

He cursed under his breath and looked at the blackened, charred toast he was left with.

"What is even the point of living?" He muttered rhetorically.

"Oh, mood," a voice said from a chair across the room, making Steve jump violently.

"How long have you been there?" He asked the teenager lounging with his feet up on the chair arm, berating himself internally for not seeing the child.

"Oh, only an hour or two. Sorry I scared you, Captain Rogers, sir."

"You can call me Steve, you know," he said, knowing Peter wouldn't listen, like usual. it was a conversation they had nearly every time they conversed, which wasn't actually that often. Sure enough, the boy just shrugged with a small smile and turned back to his phone. "Why are you up at..." he checked his watch. "Five in the morning?"

"I've actually been here since half three," he shrugged again. "I just couldn't sleep. Besides, you're up too, Captain Rogers..."

"Couldn't sleep either", he said, imitating Peter's shrug. "And what did you mean earlier, when you said... What was it, mood?"

Peter let out a surprised laugh. "Oh, it's just something you say when you hear something relatable. Mood. It's dark humour."

"Huh," Steve said, amused at the comment. It reminded him of the men from his own time around the war, always with the self-deprecating, usually death-related jokes. His kind of humour. People didn't get it in this decade. He made a comment similar to that around Sam once, and he gave him an odd look and started talking about antidepressants and therapy, and how things "would get better". Since then he never made such comments around other people, sadly deducting humour had since evolved. So he was oddly comforted to find that it wasn't as true as he had thought.

Peter smiled at him, then suddenly looked panicked. "I don't really want to die! Honestly! It's a joke! I said it to Mr Stark once and he freaked out and tried to hire a psychiatrist for me and then he started going on about depression and suicide and I'm sure he thinks I'm actually depressed now which I'm not, at least not anymore which is good." Peter clenched his teeth as if he were trying to stop more words getting out.

Steve just laughed lightly. "Believe me, I know all about fatalistic humour. I was around during the war, remember? We practically invented it! And Sam was the exact same with me after I made a joke like that. I understand, trust me."

Peter looked grateful, then was silent for a few moments. "...Anyway, Captain Rogers, sir, I should get going..."

"Oh? Where to?" He asked, mildly disappointed.

"Uh, I was just going to sit in my room until it's time for school..." He admitted. "Maybe do some homework? I dunno, I'll find something, I always do."

Steve nodded slowly, then made a quick decision. "Wanna come on a run with me?" He asked him, kind of hoping to get to know the boy a bit better.

"Oh, are you sure?" the kid asked looking a bit panicked. Steve realised he might have overwhelmed the boy a bit. It was only recently that Peter had started being able to speak to him directly without blushing. Tony had explained that Captain America had been Peter's childhood hero and that he was very much starstruck. He had gotten over it and moved into the stage where he babbled about anything and everything, but even that was starting to die down. Steve was glad, it had always embarrassed him slightly that the boy thought so highly of him, much to the amusement of the others. (Tony).

"But why would you want me to? I mean, I'm just a kid and you're Captain America, and you probably don't want me following you about and annoying you because, you're Captain America! Oh that sounded dumb, you know you're Captain America, obviously, and now I've said it too much and it's weird and I should just go back to-"

"Hey, slow down!" Steve interrupted, worrying that Peter would pass out after going so long without a breath. "I want to because you're a good kid and I'd like to get to know you better. If you're worried about keeping up, I'm sure I can go a few steps slower..."

"That's not it. I'll be able to keep up," Peter commented offhandedly. Steve raised an eyebrow, (and later he would find that it was true, for Peter had no trouble keeping up), but he carried on. "Are you sure though, because-"

"Look, if I didn't want you there, I wouldn't have invited you. Do you want to come?"

"Uh, yeah!" Peter gave Steve the biggest grin ever, and that's when the man knew he had made the right choice in inviting him along. "If you really don't mind, Captain Rogers, sir!"

"One condition," Steve added as Peter started tying the laces on his sneakers. "You cut the titles, and just call me Steve."

Peter looked up, frowning. "But-"

"No buts! Steve," he said firmly.

"...Steve..." Peter sighed, but he stood up and gave him a small smile. "Thanks... Steve."

Cap grinned back at him, and they both left the compound side by side.

Two and a half hours later, they were back at Avengers Tower, changed out of their sweaty clothes and having a second breakfast with the other avengers. Somebody had made omelettes, (probably Clint or Bruce, the seemingly only competent cooks), and they were sitting around the table.

"Somebody's got an appetite," Tony smirked at Peter, who was all but inhaling his meal.

"Mhmm!" Peter hummed. "Steve, will you pass the salt?" he said through a mouthful of food. "Thanks!" He shook some onto the plate while Tony stared at him in shock. After another two mouthfuls, he felt eyes on him and looked up at his mentor in confusion. "...Is everything okay, Mr Stark?"

"Mister-" His jaw dropped and he looked To steve, eyebrows raised. "What did you do to my kid, and why is he calling you Steve?!"

"Because that's my name..." Steve shrugged, feigning obliviousness.

"But how-" He sighed. "Hey, kid..."

"Yeah?"

"Repeat after me - Toh... Nee! Toh... Nee!"

After that, it became a competition to see who could get Peter to use their first names. (Natasha won. She refused to tell anyone how, but she smirked triumphantly whenever it was mentioned). Peter and Steve went for a run nearly every morning together, forming a close bond, and both found that the loneliness that had buried itself deep into each of them had disappeared entirely.

The End.


End file.
